


finding my spirit in waking up with you

by binchmarner



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cale Makar loves Conor Timmins, Coming Out, Conor Timmins loves Disney, Disney as a means of Flirting, Found Family, Friendship, Group Therapy, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Conor Timmins, Other, Support Group, Therapy, Trans Character, hockey bros as a supportive friend group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22522987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binchmarner/pseuds/binchmarner
Summary: After being told to go to group therapy, Hobey Baker finalist Cale Makar becomes closer with the UMass Hockey team's media manager Conor Timmins. There, he finds out that being out isn't the worst thing in the world–– it's actually kind of awesome, and finds his found family, in more ways than one.
Relationships: Cale Makar/Conor Timmins, Dante Fabbro/Tyson Jost, J. T. Compher/Alexander Kerfoot, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Tyson Barrie/Nathan MacKinnon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	finding my spirit in waking up with you

**Author's Note:**

> i have a WHOLE list of people to thank. Thank you sun for betaing, and river, skyscraperblue, em bee, dhils, glazedsun, vinczander, chuck, true, and annapods for being the best cheerleaders EVER. thank you for kicking my ass to tell me to finish this. 
> 
> thank you sprinto bot for being there at ass o'clock in the morning when my insomnia kept me up writing. 
> 
> title comes from dodie's christmas song [red and green.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glNSMGuPAqg&t=35s)

Cale is just on his way out the door after an appointment with his psychology professor when Professor Halgin calls him back.

“Yes, Professor?” Cale asks. 

“I want you to go to therapy, Cale,” Professor Halgin says, sitting against his desk. Cale shakes his head, trying to group and regroup the words, trying to make them make sense. They’d just finished a report, and Cale had been so sure he aced it. What happened? Therapy? “A support group.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, his throat dry. He’s not depressed, he doesn’t think. He’s not suicidal. He’s just…

Lonely.

“Son, I’ve been seeing your performance this year, and it’s astounding, it truly is. You’re a Hobey Baker finalist! You just,” Halgin begins, smiling kindly. “seem like you’re under a lot of pressure.”

Cale can’t help but snort. He’s an alternate captain in his second year of college, a fourth overall pick in his year’s draft, and taking a big part in reviving the UMass hockey team as a whole. He has everyone’s eyes on him at all times, not to mention the fact that he’s sort of in the closet to everyone but his team and that adds a _whole_ other level of complicated to it, and he just––

It’s a lot, okay?

“They don’t really make hockey support groups, Doc.” Cale huffs out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking.”

“I could help you get set up with a therapist, if you’d like, or,” Halgin offers, turning around to grab a sheet of paper. Cale looks at it; it’s a list of support groups and every single one is on a day that he has practice. “These groups have meetings throughout the week.”

“I think you underestimate how long I’m at practice,” Cale says, but takes the paper when Halgin levels him with a look, the hard set of his jaw shaking something in Cale.

“Look. Even Sidney Crosby needs some mental assistance sometimes. Don’t look at it as a weight on your shoulders, but something to take the weight off of them.”

“Yes sir.” Cale nods, gripping the paper a little harder than necessary as he promises to check out a group when he has the time. 

He gets all the way out of the building before throwing the paper away.

\----

Cale knows that Professor Halgin only has his best interests at heart, but Cale really, truly is okay. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself the entire mile it takes to get back to his dorm. 

He thinks about stopping for food, but he does have a paper he has to get started on so it’s best not to dawdle but…

Potstickers.

The Berkshire dining hall by his dorm is… kind of amazing. It has the Certified Best Food On Campus (trademarked and copywritten by the ZooMass Twitter) and it has probably whatever he could be craving at any time. 

Today it just so happens to be Asian food. 

He gets in line with his card and passes through, getting a box or two of potstickers before stopping by the drinks.

“Hey, Cale!” 

Cale raises his eyebrows and turns around to see Conor, the hockey team’s student Media Marketing Manager. He greets Cale with a warm smile before reaching over to grab a bottle of iced coffee. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to grab dinner before my meeting tonight.”

Cale furrows his eyebrows. “I didn’t think the Marketing team met on Thursdays,” he says, grabbing a coffee as well. 

Conor lets out a laugh, a little huff like Cale’s in on a secret joke. “Ah, no, we don’t. I go to a support group on Thursday nights. They give out scholarships, make people feel included. It takes a lot of weight off of my shoulders being gay and working for a hockey team. They even have gender inclusive housing, though I do have to admit: the food is much nicer in this dining hall.” 

Cale smiles. He likes Conor from what he knows about him. They don’t really interact much, besides Cale stopping Marco from annoying the absolute shit out of him when he’s trying to work. It always makes the tops of Conor’s cheeks go pink, and Cale’s truly, secretly, thought it was kind of cute.

Not that he’d do anything about his infatuation with Conor’s face. He’s team— you don’t fuck team. 

“That sounds nice,” Cale says. “It’s always nice to be included.”

And then the words sort of sink in.

_It takes the weight off of my shoulders…_

“Is it an open support group?” he asks, trying his hardest to seem in the least bit disinterested, and not in any way shape or form like he’s thinking about going to this meeting. Going to this support group would mean that he already knows someone there, especially someone who’s _team._ An LGBT group would mean that he could go and talk about being gay, about wanting to be out without people pretending to care because they _get it. _

It’d mean a lot, Cale figures.

“Well, yeah I guess. Why?” Conor asks. “Do you wanna come check it out?” 

Cale laughs a little, shrugging. “Halgin says I need to check out a support group, and you said that you had a weight lifted off of your shoulders and I thought it might help if I checked it out. I’m just worried about it getting out that I’m going to an LGBT meeting––”

“Dude, no. There’s a confidentiality thing,” Conor says, balancing his tray in one hand and resting the other on Cale’s shoulder. “No one would out you or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Cale lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “That’s… good. That’s comforting. I like that.” He nods.

“Breathe, Makar. Everything’s okay. Except for the fact that the meeting starts in about twenty minutes and it’s across campus.” Conor gives Cale a sympathetic smile, laughing when Cale’s mouth drops open. 

“We should… we should pay for our stuff then,” Cale says, pointing at the registers. 

“That sounds good.”

\---

The Stonewall Center is… nothing like he’d ever imagined it to be. 

For one, there are fewer rainbows. That being said, there are a fair few pride flags adorning the walls. It’s a bit bigger than a seating area in a dorm, giving everyone the ability to sit in a space on a couch, chair, or beanbag without squishing anyone else. 

Cale didn’t know that there were _that_ many identities. 

He vaguely thinks that he’s got some reading up to do when Conor gestures next to him, seated in a particularly comfy looking beanbag. Cale smiles in spite of himself, moving to sit down as Conor pulls up a UMass maroon beanbag. 

“Gotta have you rep the school,” Conor teases, setting his food on the table. “You’re better than our mascot.”

“You think?” Cale can’t help but preen. Normally he’d brush it off, say something along the lines of _it’s a team effort,_ but it’s _different_ coming from Conor––not that he knows why. “Better than Sam?”

“Oh, way better,” Conor says. “At least you can blink.”

Cale snorts, opening up his food, and looks over at Conor. “Potsticker? It’s chicken.”

Conor smiles, that soft, crooked smile again. “Really?”

“I’ve got another box in my backpack as sustenance for when I work on my paper later. Independent study is kicking my ass.” Cale rolls his eyes, but pushes the styrofoam box over. 

Other students begin filing into the room, and they all come over and hug Conor. He’s like… a whole other person here. At the games, Conor’s in a suit with his iPad Pro, his iPhone, and his camera, and he’s always so serious. Here, Cale doesn’t think he’s actually stopped smiling since they stepped in the Stonewall Center. 

Cale wonders if he could ever be like that.

He’s so tense all the time. He’s so nervous and anxious _all the time._ It sits like a weight in his stomach, cold and heavy, too heavy to pick up, at the thought of him being in the closet. He wants so bad to be out, but he’s so scared. 

Someone with mostly natural red, but dyed black bangs comes and sits down next to Cale. The first thing––besides the sick hair color––that Cale notices is their septum ring.

And then their pin that has an arm to point to which pronoun they’re using that day.

He figures as he looks at the pin that says _they_, that they identify as more… gender fluid that day.

He has so much to learn.

“Are you allergic to peanuts?” they ask, digging in their backpack. “We had students from Harvard’s gay alliance come over one day a couple years ago and I made a mistake and took out a cup of peanut butter for apple slices and…” they shake their head. “It didn’t end well.”

“Oh my god,” Cale says, sort of horrified.

Their eyes widen. “Oh no! Alexander’s totally fine! Both groups’ first aids had an Epi-pen. I’m Jay. JT.”

“Oh, well. That’s at least a little better. Cale, and no. I’m not allergic to peanuts.” Cale holds his hand out for them to shake, and they shake enthusiastically.

“Oh my god, I know you,” they say. Cale cringes, his entire body bracing for the impact.

_Here it is. My life is about to come crashing down. I’m about to be outed as the first gay NCAA hockey player and––___

_ _“Professor Halgin, first semester 2017? Abnormal Psych?” JT grins. “You got me that coffee after I spilled mine.”_ _

_ _Cale smiles. “Oh yeah, oh my god, JT. They put your name as key on the cup.” _ _

_ _They pull up their hoodie sleeve to reveal a tattoo of an ornate key on their wrist. “It’s silly, but I got the tattoo after the semester was over. You were like, one of the only people that were nice to me then. Sometimes I look at it and just smile, like _that’s something someone actually did for me._ Also the key I got is kind of actually sick.”_ _

_ _“It really is,” Cale says. He wants to ask them to go into detail about tattooing––did it hurt, how _much_ did it hurt, do they have any more––when someone comes in. He assumes its the facilitator of the group because everyone more or less quiets down when they start speaking._ _

_ _“Hey, y’all! I can see we have some new people, so let me introduce myself.” she winks at Cale before starting. “I’m Jules. My pronouns are she/her/hers, and I’m a femme lesbian. I teach gender studies here at UMass Amherst,” Jules says. _ _

_ _“Our rules for the group are phones on silent and away, and what happens in this room stays in the room. We don’t wanna go outing people who aren’t out yet. Fill out a name tag so everyone knows your name, and no violence or slander, whether that be verbal or physical. We want to respect everyone here, make sure everyone feels included.”_ _

_ _“Conor, why don’t you start us off with highs and lows?” Jules says._ _

_ _“Yeah, sure. I’m Conor,” Conor says, flushing dark when a guy on the other side of the room calls him _Timbits_. “20. Sophomore. He/they pronouns, and bisexual.”_ _

_ _“High of the week, I changed from the T shots to a gel, which is really great now that I’m fully transitioned and everything because I hate needles.” Conor’s specifically not looking Cale’s way, but Cale pushes the box of food toward Conor as an offering of _I’m here, I’m okay_. Conor smiles, and something in Cale jumps. “Low? It’s getting cold, so my scars from top surgery hurt like hell.”_ _

_ _“Top surgery?” Cale asks. “I’m sorry, what is that?”_ _

_ _“The teet yeet,” a person by the name of Nate says in the most serious voice they can manage._ _

_ _Cale feels like he’s a part of a joke he’s not getting._ _

_ _“I got a masculinizing double mastectomy,” Conor shrugs. “Got it done by a plastic surgeon and not a trans specialist, but it got the job done when I needed it. I’m still really pleased with how it turned out, and my chest is flat, so.”_ _

_ _“Oh shit,” Cale says, the words sinking in. “Do you prefer one pronoun over the other?”_ _

_ _“_They_ works the best for me, to be honest. It makes me feel the most like _me_, but I know working with a hockey team, hockey may be _for everyone_, but it’s definitely not that transgender inclusive,” Conor shrugs. “You’re up next, grumpy cat.”_ _

_ _JT looks up from where they’re cutting their apple into slices and flushes. “I’m grumpy cat. Apparently I never smile. Conor came up with it. They think they’re funny.” They shrug. “23. Junior. They/them pronouns as of now, and pansexual.”_ _

_ _“Low of the week? I’m having a hell of a time on my social psych paper, but luckily, my high is that Bickford isn’t an actual dick, so I have a bit of an extension after I showed him my paper.” JT says._ _

_ _“Social psychology was a whole mess,” Cale says, smiling. “But I liked Bickford, he was cool.”_ _

_ _“Way.” JT grins._ _

_ _“What about you? Do you wanna go next?” Jules asks, gesturing to Cale, who is, unfortunately, in the middle of taking a bite of his potsticker. _ _

_ _He finishes chewing because he wasn’t born in a barn; he’s a good Canadian boy with manners. And either way, making sure he doesn’t talk with his mouth full extends the time he has not being out. _ _

_ _“I uh,” he swallows. “I’m Cale. Makar. 20. Sophomore. He/him pronouns, I guess? And I am, well. Gay.”_ _

_ _The guy, Nate on the other side of the room like, smiles and nods that bro smile. “Solidarity, man. There needs to be more gay athletes here. It’s fucking Pioneer Valley for fucks sake.”_ _

_ _“What does that have to do with anything?” Cale asks, furrowing his eyebrows._ _

_ _Conor snorts, knocking their shoulders together. “You have much to learn, young Padawan.”_ _

_ _“The Pioneer Valley is home to probably the gayest colleges in the northeast,” Nate says._ _

_ _“Smith, Amherst College, us, Mt Holyoke, and Hampshire make up the five college consortium,” a guy with curly brown hair whose sticker says _The Real Tyson_ says. “You may know that you can take courses and get a certification from any college in there, but there is a constant competition to see who’s got the gayest campus between us five.”_ _

_ _“Right now Smith is winning,” JT says._ _

_ _“And we’re in a close second, but we do all come together for the commencement ball and plan a dance. Fundraise for it and everything.” Conor grins, stealing another dumpling from Cale._ _

_ _“So, what’s the big deal?” Cale asks. _ _

_ _“It’s a big deal in the Valley community to hold the ball. It’s like, sacred,” ‘Tyson Jr.’ says. Cale’s going to have to ask about the _jr_ and _Sr_ later._ _

_ _“They started it like, five years ago.” JT says._ _

_ _“Five years that UMass hasn’t held it!” Colin throws their hands up. _ _

_ _“Alright, alright, let’s get back on track,” Jules says, reigning in the group so they don’t go too off track and waste the entire hour and a half talking about the indecency that UMass hasn’t held a Stonewall Dance yet._ _

_ _Cale, for the first time in his life, thinks he can breathe. _ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Conor asks, smiling as Cale laughs._ _

_ _“The world didn’t come crashing down when I mentioned that I was gay, so it went better than expected,” Cale says. Conor stops in their tracks, and it takes a few steps for Cale to realize that Conor’s not in step with him. He turns around. “What?”_ _

_ _“Cale, you do know there are people on the team who would support you if you decide to publicly come out, right?” Conor asks, walking back up to him._ _

_ _“Yeah, like who?” Cale asks, shrugging. “It’d be different if I told everyone. They’d treat me different.”_ _

_ _“Cale,” Conor says. “I’m publicly out as trans, I just don’t talk about it. Am I treated any differently than any other media marketing major on our team?”_ _

_ _“Well no, but––”_ _

_ _“Would I treat you any differently?” Conor asks. “The only way I’d treat you differently is if you held those dumplings from me.”_ _

_ _Cale smiles in spite of himself. “I’ve got another box in my backpack and a microwave in my dorm room.”_ _

_ _They raise an eyebrow. “I’ve got Disney+. Have you seen _Ice Princess_?” _ _

_ _“If it’s not Marvel, I haven’t seen it,” Cale says._ _

_ _“Wait, you haven’t seen a single _Star War_?” they ask, their mouth dropped open. _ _

_ _Cale shrugs. “I was more interested in the CGI superheroes. And Bucky. I was interested in Bucky.”_ _

_ _“Who wasn’t?” Conor asks. “That whole White Wolf phase? Wow, that was a lot.”_ _

_ _“I’m just pissed we didn’t call Captain Marvel sooner. Like, we could’ve beaten Thanos with time to spare without dealing with all the bullshit of _Endgame_.” Cale sticks his hands in his hoodie pockets so he has something to do with them. “She’s so badass. Clearly the best out of all of them.”_ _

_ _“Oh definitely.” Conor nods. “You’ve got good taste.”_ _

_ _“Thank you, I definitely try.” Cale laughs. “So, is this meeting a weekly or a bi-weekly meeting?”_ _

_ _“It’s weekly and not mandatory, so if you ever need to miss it, you’re not going to get kicked out because you’re not there.” Conor grins. “They actually have a group that attends most every hockey game that’s here.” _ _

_ _“Really?” Cale asks._ _

_ _“Shows school spirit,” Conor shrugs. “Jt’s the only other sports gay in the group, and we go to all their home games too, and some of their away games if they’re really close.” _ _

_ _“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Cale grins. _ _

_ _“Yeah. There aren’t a lot of us, but we do have fun,” Conor says. “We’re really supportive of each other. It’s nice.”_ _

_ _And, to be truthful…_ _

_ _It does sound really nice. _ _

_ _To have a group of friends outside of something you’re bound to by a contract. Not that Cale doesn’t love his teammates. They’re hilarious and wonderful, and they’re like his family._ _

_ _But this has a feeling of safety that the hockey team doesn’t quite provide yet. One day maybe, but not yet. _ _

_ _“Why don’t you guys come to my game on Saturday?” Cale blurts out and immediately wants to backtrack. “I mean, I know you’re already going to be there, but I can probably get them all really good tickets in the lower bowl and––”_ _

_ _“Dude, dude, yeah, that sounds awesome. Let me add you to the group chat and give you Jules’s number to give to PR.”_ _

_ _As they walk back to Cale’s dorm, he feels lighter than he has in months. _ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, Mister Makar!” Cale hears someone yell from outside his bedroom. He’s so lucky he was given the single room by Rufo. “Cale juice!! It’s seven am and you’re still not awake yet, which means unless you picked up, you’re dead!”_ _

_ _“Bozzy, shut the fuck up, I didn’t pick––” Cale lifts his head up and opens his eyes to see…_ _

_ _Conor. Sleeping. In bed with him. _ _

_ _“Cale?” Bozzy asks. “Dude, what’s going on?” _ _

_ _“Nothing!” Cale says, shaking Conor awake. “Conor, wake up!”_ _

_ _“Huh?” Conor mumbles, burrowing into their––or rather, Cale’s pillow._ _

_ _“I’ve gotta leave for team breakfast and I don’t think anyone knows you came in last night,” Cale whispers into Conor’s ear. Conor’s eyes fly open and they sit up._ _

_ _“Oh my god, I stayed the night,” Conor says, a little desperate. “This is… not in the least bit professional.”_ _

_ _“It’s gonna be a lot less professional when Bozzy walks in on us in our underwear in bed.” _ _

_ _“Yeah, yeah definitely. But _where do I hide_?” they ask, grabbing their UMass jacket from the foot of Cale’s bed. _ _

_ _Cale specifically does _not_ look at how nice their ass looks-- Even though the two of them are kind of throwing that whole idea of professionalism out the window._ _

_ _“Behind the door in the closet!” Cale says._ _

_ _“You think I fit in the closet?” Conor hisses, pulling on their red UMass jacket. _ _

_ _“Just go!” Cale walks over to the door and pulls it open just enough to see Bozzy. “Heyyyy Bozzy. Sup, sup, sup, sup, sup?”_ _

_ _Bozzy squints at him. “Yeah. You’re late for team breakfast.”_ _

_ _“I know. I’ll be down in five––”_ _

_ _Conor clears their throat._ _

_ _“Ten! Minutes.” Cale hopes his cheeks don’t flare up too much. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go get dressed and shower.”_ _

_ _“I––”_ _

_ _“Okay, bye!” Cale waves then shuts the door. He leans against the door and breathes heavier than he would if he had just been bag skated._ _

_ _“Are you okay?” Conor asks, their voice soft._ _

_ _“This is not the first time I’ve had a hookup in this room, it’s just that this time it wasn’t a hookup, and it was…”_ _

_ _“Same gender...ish,” Conor nods. “I remember that feeling. Either way, I’m sorry I overstayed my welcome.”_ _

_ _“You didn’t!” Cale says immediately, reaching out to… what, grab their hand? Punch their shoulder in that_ just bros_ way they obviously aren’t? “I really enjoyed watching a movie with you.”_ _

_ _“We fell asleep halfway through.” Conor scrunches up their nose, and oh. Had they been _anyone_ else, Cale would’ve thought it was cute._ _

_ _“We needed the sleep.” Cale shrugs._ _

_ _Conor glances down at their feet. “Sorry you’re gonna get fined then.”_ _

_ _Cale grins. “You can pay me back by getting the potstickers next time.”_ _

_ _“I pay for the Disney+!” Conor gasps, though they laugh when Cale laughs. _ _

_ _“It’s only fair, Hildy’s gonna have my head at practice today.”_ _

_ _“Then you’d better get going, shouldn’t you?” they raise an eyebrow, and laugh when Cale’s eyes widen. _ _

_ _“Fuck, you’re right.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Mario Ferraro is to gossip as a shark is to blood in the water––drawn to it faster than anything. So when Cale sits down at the team sanctioned table in their dining hall, Ferrsy immediately leers at him. _ _

_ _“So _Cale,_ if that is your real name––”_ _

_ _“It is, though?”_ _

_ _“Shh!” Bozzy shushes Cale, stuffing a piece of watermelon in his mouth. “Listen to the man!”_ _

_ _Cale swallows the piece of fruit. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I overslept. I was up late studying.”_ _

_ _“What class?” Ferrsy asks._ _

_ _“Psych.” Cale shrugs._ _

_ _“Which one?” Bozzy raises an eyebrow._ _

_ _“Independent study.” Cale rolls his eyes._ _

_ _“What teacher?” Muzz asks._ _

_ _“Halgin. Why would I lie to you?” _ _

_ _“Because you keep your cards close to your chest, Makar. If you bagged a beauty, we’d never know until you guys were at least six months.” Ferrsy says._ _

_ _“That’s funny. You guys assume I’d tell you,” Cale says, sprinkling salt and pepper on his gross egg substitute eggs. Upon hearing the uproar of his nosy teammates he groans. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”_ _

_ _“What were you reading?” Hildy asks. Cale sighs, putting down his fork. _ _

_ _“Not you too.”_ _

_ _“Look! The alternate captain who’s always twenty minutes early everywhere is twenty minutes late? There has to be something interesting going on.” Hildy says. _ _

_ _“Oh, my god. _Thinking, Fast and Slow_ by Daniel Kahneman. You happy?” Cale asks. “You all chirp me all season to get a life, and the moment I get a life you all are upset?”_ _

_ _“We’re not upset!” Ferrsy says._ _

_ _“We just wanna know who this beauty is.”_ _

_ _“Well, they uh–-”_ _

_ _ _Tall, curly black hair, fair skin, with two different colored eyes. They have a really nice smile. It’s kind of like sunshine._ _ _

_ _“_They,_ huh?” Bliss leers. “You bag more than one, huh?”_ _

_ _Cale flushes. “_No._ They’re nonbinary.” _ _

_ _He’s met with resounding silence, so he figures now is the best time to test the waters. “Nonbinary? Not identifying with either gender binary?”_ _

_ _“Sick,” Farmer says. “I heard those are the freaky ones.”_ _

_ _“Dude, no.” Cale shakes his head. “They’re an actual person. Don’t like, objectify them.”_ _

_ _Farmer flushes. His face goes through an entire journey before settling on surprised. “I’m… sorry dude.”_ _

_ _“It’s okay, they’re just like, real people too.”_ _

_ _“What’s their name?” Muzz asks, his voice softer now that he’s not needling a fine out of him._ _

_ _ _Don’t say Conor, don’t say Conor, don’t say––_ _ _

_ _“Timmy.” _ _

_ _“Timmy?” Lindy asks. “Like… _Cosmo and Wanda_ Timmy Turner?”_ _

_ _“Yeah, it’s a nickname apparently. We just hit it off. They came back to my room, we ate food and watched Disney and fell asleep.” Cale shrugs, because it’s like… 99% the truth. _ _

_ _Maybe like 89%. _ _

_ _Muzz smiles. “If they can sit through you chowing down on some potstickers, they’re in for the long haul, dude.”_ _

_ _“Oh, no, we’ve known each other for a while,” Cale says without thinking, completely forgetting the absolute shit that would go down if he says that. _ _

_ _“You _what_?!” Bozzy almost shrieks. “How long?”_ _

_ _“Year and a half?” Cale says, because in for a penny, in for a pound, he guesses. Might as well really sell the lie._ _

_ _“There’s no way you’ve been getting your dick wet for that long and you’re still that tense,” Ferrsy says. _ _

_ _Cale kind of wants to die about it. _ _

_ _“We’re just _friends_ oh my god, guys.” Cale loves his family, he really does, but sometimes he just wants to punch them._ _

_ _“Oh, so you _liiiiiiiike_ them,” Chauzy sing songs. _ _

_ _Cale rolls his eyes. “I thought we passed kindergarten,” he deadpans. _ _

_ _“I’m just saying! You’ve been out of it all breakfast,” Bozzy says._ _

_ _“Head in the clouds,” Ferrsy adds._ _

_ _“Yeah well, someone woke me up by _yelling,_ which is never the best way to wake up, huh?” Cale asks, throwing a glare at Bozzy who shrugs without remorse. _ _

_ _“You had a person over, which is still grounds for fining,” Ferrsy says. “Hildy?”_ _

_ _Hildy takes a look at Cale, and Cale feels as if he’s covered in love marks that aren’t there. _ _

_ _“Seventy-five,” Hildy says, with an edge of finality that means the conversation is over. _ _

_ _Cale would pay him a million to get off the subject._ _

_ _He doesn’t have a crush on Conor. He _can’t_ have a crush on Conor._ _

_ _He won’t._ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Practice is… practice, Cale figures. Carvel has the team go through warm ups. Hildy does end up making Cale do bag skates, which he’s gasping at by the end._ _

_ _So he hopes he can blame his exhaustion for how he absolutely runs into the boards when he sees a certain someone with their camera taking pictures of the team wearing the same clothes as they wore the night before._ _

_ _“Shit!” Cale says, rubbing his forehead––the one day he chooses to practice without his helmet. _ _

_ _Conor startles, walking over to Cale. “Oh my god, are you okay?” _ _

_ _A yes would have sufficed as an answer. However, Cale is lacking a single brain cell right now, so he answers, “What are you wearing?”_ _

_ _“My clothing? What are you wearing?” Conor’s eyebrows furrow._ _

_ _When Cale doesn’t reply–– again, lacking important brain cells, when everything’s just yelling _maroon UMass jacket_–– Conor rolls their eyes._ _

_ _“I didn’t have time to go to my dorm, change, eat, and get to practice on time. So I went to eat, and then high-tailed it to practice.”_ _

_ _Cale stares dumbly at them for a moment._ _

_ _“Did you hit the boards harder than I thought? Should I go get the team doctor?” Conor asks._ _

_ _“I would have given you clothes,” Cale offers, a little hurt that Conor didn’t think of that before._ _

_ _Conor flushes, and Cale doesn’t know why. It’s a nice gesture, especially to a friend._ _

_ _Who spent the night half naked in bed with him... And then it hits._ _

_ _“Oh my god, not like we were together or anything. You’d give the clothes back of course.” Cale’s cheeks flame up, and he kind of wants to just crawl in a hole and die. He can feel Ferrsy’s eyes on his back, waiting to jump in and make him look more of a fool._ _

_ _“No, I know, don’t worry!” Conor reassures Cale, but truly it doesn’t feel like much._ _

_ _Coach Carvel, who’s sometimes the worst, but is now the best, calls over to Cale. “Stop talking to our media intern to get out of pictures, Makar.”_ _

_ _“I’ve gotta–– I should–– I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later?” Cale asks, skating backwards and waving. Conor laughs, nodding. _ _

_ _“‘Course!” _ _

_ _“Great, I’ll see you in––” Cale begins, but is cut off when he skates straight into…_ _

_ _“Makar,” Hildy says, his hands on Cale’s shoulders._ _

_ _“Yes, Captain?” Cale asks, turning around. He glances over to Conor, whose hand is over their mouth. It looks like they’re trying to hold back laughter, the bastard._ _

_ _“You and _Timmy_ better be careful, okay?” he says, his voice low. “The team can get a little over protective and chirp you, but they do mean well.”_ _

_ _“I–– we–– what? Who’s Timmy?” Cale asks, shrugging. “I don’t know a Timmy.”_ _

_ _“Cale.” Hildy sighs, glancing over to Conor. “Just know that I’m here if you ever need anything. If you need me to control Bozzy, I can do that too.”_ _

_ _“Got it, Cap.” _ _

_ _“An extra fifty for hooking up with someone on the team, media or not, and if you argue I’ll tack on another hundred.” Hildy smirks. “Go take the face off.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Cale’s in the middle of a two-touch game with Ferrsy, Del Gaizo, and Pritchy. He’s almost winning too, until he catches Conor filming. He goes to kick the ball and Charlie Browns it, falling flat on his ass. _ _

_ _“Oh my _god._” Del Gaizo kneels on the ground because he’s laughing so hard. Cale digs the heels of his palms in his eyes, trying to school his expression. “That was fucking _hilarious._”_ _

_ _“That gets cut out,” Cale says, to which Pritchy and Del Gaizo reply _No!__ _

_ _Conor chuckles. “Does majority still rule when the guy who’s saying no is the one who fell or no?” _ _

_ _“It especially doesn’t if the guy who fell is an alternate captain,” Cale says, getting up. His cheeks are flushed, though it makes it better when he sees Conor wink at him._ _

_ _“Authority rules, sorry Marc, sorry Jake.” _ _

_ _“You see? Conor likes me best,” Cale smirks. He turns around to see them flushed, smiling at their phone._ _

_ _“Don’t make me post this, Makar.”_ _

_ _“Bet, Timbits.”_ _

_ _“Oh my god, get a room,” Pritchy groans. “Can you flirt somewhere else, please?”_ _

_ _Cale stiffens, but Conor smiles, and makes a reassuring face. “Sure. I’ll just use you both for my next photoshoot,” they threaten easily._ _

_ _“I have class in like, half an hour,” Del Gaizo’s eyes widen, his fight or flight instinct turning on at the thought of doing anything except avoiding a camera. “Pritch, c’mon, help me study.”_ _

_ _“Thanks,” Cale says as the two walk away. _ _

_ _“No problem!”_ _

_ _It takes a second for him to realize what this all must look like to Conor. The constant hiding and lying. They’d just hung out and Cale basically kicked Conor out of his room._ _

_ _“Hey, I’m not like, ashamed of you. You know that, right?” Cale says. “Hanging out with you and the other gays was probably the best I felt in a while.”_ _

_ _Conor has this sort of relieved smile on their face. “Good. I was worried you didn’t like it, or that you like, thought I was weird or––”_ _

_ _“But.”_ _

_ _“But?” Conor asks, their easy smile fading._ _

_ _“The team thinks I’m dating you. Or well, Hildy thinks I’m dating _you,_ and the team thinks I’m dating someone named, well, Timmy.” Cale says sheepishly. It seems like it takes them a second to process what’s happening before speaking again._ _

_ _“Okay,” Conor says easily, as if Cale hadn’t just dropped the biggest fucking bomb. “Did you get fined more?”_ _

_ _“Extra fifty.” Cale shrugs. “Hildy’s the only one that’s put two and two together, told me he’d keep the other players at bay. They can be a lot, especially since we aren’t.”_ _

_ _“I don’t mind. If it makes you more comfortable with the idea of being out, you can do whatever you need.” Conor smiles. “Either way, I’m glad no one’s given you shit about it.”_ _

_ _“I didn’t think they would, but…”_ _

_ _“Hockey players.” Conor shrugs. “Sorry for the generalization.”_ _

_ _“No! It’s okay.” Cale smiles wryly. “I totally get it. I’m headed to lunch, and I hear someone is taking care of potstickers.”_ _

_ _“I never said I’d buy you potstickers!” Conor laughs. “I’ll buy stir fry and we can share.”_ _

_ _“That sounds like a deal.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Bozzy’s grasp on his grade in Introduction to Business is… bad at best. Cale’s really glad that he has some ability to pay attention to the teacher, because Bozzy _really_ doesn’t._ _

_ _“Is your nonbinary person guy in this class?” Bozzy asks as they sit down at their regular seats. (Cale insists on being at least three rows from the front so he can see the board. Bozzy begrudgingly sits next to him so he can take notes.)_ _

_ _Cale sneaks a glance over at Conor, who’s definitely playing solitaire on their computer. Cale snorts, shaking his head. “Maybe.”_ _

_ _“You never told me what they look like; am I going to have to stake out your room?” Bozzy rests his chin on Cale’s shoulder and smiles. Cale raises an eyebrow._ _

_ _“Boundaries, Bozzo.” He pushes Marco off and pulls out his phone._ _

_ _Cale:  
_Marco wants to know what you look like. What should I tell him?__ _

_ _He looks over to where Conor is sitting. The message must pop up, because Cale has the delight of seeing their cheeks pink in real time._ _

_ _ **Conor:  
_Tell him I’m gorgeous. And taller than you. Remember to include that.  
Not that that’s a hard thing to accomplish ;)_** _ _

_ _Cale:  
_Oh? You’re like, four inches taller than I am!__ _

_ _ **Conor:  
_Four inches makes a lot of difference.  
;)_** _ _

_ _Professor Greenway hits a stride in his lecture about something Cale’s already learned about when he whispers to Marco. “They’re a smartass. And they’re tall.”_ _

_ _“Yeah, but like, their hair color, their eye color, how low or high their voice is?”_ _

_ _“Mister Bozzo. Do you mind, or would you and Mister Makar like to tell everyone about your love life?” Professor Greenway says, crossing his arms. Cale glances over to Conor, who’s smiling._ _

_ _“No, sir. We were talking in hypotheticals,” Cale says. “It won’t happen again.”_ _

_ _The professor’s stony features soften. “Let’s talk in hypotheticals about our business ventures.”_ _

_ _ **Conor:  
_You should help me study. ITB is kicking my ass._** _ _

_ _Cale:  
_you have work tomorrow and we’d end up watching disney anyway.__ _

_ _ **Conor:  
_Well, that’s the entire point, isn’t it?_** _ _

_ _Cale can’t really argue with that. He smiles._ _

_ _Cale:  
_You already got lunch with me. Not sick of me yet?__ _

_ _ **Conor:  
_I don’t think a person could actually get sick of you, Cale Makar.  
If there is, I’d like to meet them because they must be the most boring person._** _ _

_ _Cale:  
_I have a workout and then I’ll be there.__ _

_ _Cale’s cheeks flush and he finds himself staring at the back of Conor’s neck for the rest of the class._ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Cale finds his way to the gender inclusive housing after his workout, and immediately runs into Nate. _ _

_ _“Hey, Cale!” Nate smiles, pulling Cale into a hug. _ _

_ _“Nate, how are you?” Cale asks._ _

_ _“I’m on my way to go get coffee and study with Tys. apparently I’ve been evicted from my room for the night by Conor.” He raises an eyebrow. “Which is where I assume you’re going?”_ _

_ _“Uh.” There’s a moment where Cale wants to lie, wants to run away from the truth, but like, the people from the LGBT group he’s gone to are his friends. They wouldn’t do him wrong. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”_ _

_ _“Don’t apologize, dude,” Nate smiles, and everything unsettled in Cale’s belly slots into place. “I just wanted to say that they’re a good dude. As a friend or whatever. They just deserve to be treated well.”_ _

_ _“Of… course?” Cale says, not totally sure where _that_ came from. “We’re not… hooking up, you know that right?”_ _

_ _“Oh, you’re not?” Nate flushes. “Because when they didn’t come back after yesterday’s meeting, Tys and I figured that they were just with you.”_ _

_ _“No, we’re just friends.” Cale ducks his head, looking at his sneakers. “They’re cute though.”_ _

_ _“Yeah?” Nate smiles toothily. “You should tell them you think that.”_ _

_ _“Absolutely not.”_ _

_ _“Okay, I won’t push you. But Tys and I pined after each other for years, and we’re graduating in a couple of months.” Nate shrugs. “I kinda just wish we had more time together.”_ _

_ _“Then tell him you think that.” Cale raises an eyebrow._ _

_ _“Student has quickly surpassed the master.” Nate smiles. “Go see your person.”_ _

_ _“I will. You have a place to sleep tonight, right?” Cale asks. _ _

_ _“Yeah, I sleep at Tyson’s most days.” Nate waggles his eyebrows. “Senior, not junior.”_ _

_ _“Wh––”_ _

_ _“You’ll learn the difference soon.” Nate laughs, turning around and walking out of the building. “Bye!”_ _

_ _It doesn’t take long to find the room Conor had texted him. He walks up and knocks on the door–– he’s thinking about writing something on the little whiteboard when Conor opens the door. They smile and lean against it. _ _

_ _“Hey! Sorry I––” their sentence trails off as Cale’s eyebrows furrow. “You wear glasses?”_ _

_ _“Yeah, sorry, I know it’s dorky. My eyes were just irritated after my workout and I didn’t wanna put my contacts back in after I showered.” Cale pushes the frames of his glasses up._ _

_ _“No they, they look good,” Conor says, a little breathless. They shake their head and lead Cale into their room._ _

_ _“This is my room. Or well, Nate’s and my room. He’s never here, always out with Senior, so I basically have the room to myself.” Conor grins. “Do you want to do the work at the desk or on the bed? I don’t think Nate would be pissed if you sat on his bed, but he and Tyson do come back and share the bed and––”_ _

_ _“Desk is good,” Cale says, laughing. He pulls out the textbook, highlighters, a pen, and his computer. “Let’s at least do the first couple lessons before we take a break.” _ _

_ _They work for a good hour and a half, talking through the book and highlighting important pieces of information. Cale does his best to make Conor see how easy the class can actually be, and it looks like they’re getting it. Before he knows it, his stomach is growling for dinner._ _

_ _“Okay. so we’re on the third lesson. Do you wanna go get food and watch a movie?” they ask, chuckling. Cale smiles._ _

_ _“That sounds like a plan. What are you in the mood for?” he asks. _ _

_ _“Pizza is easy and accessible, and it’s so far to Berkshire, but I’m kind of feeling stir fry?” Conor asks. Cale brightens._ _

_ _“I am _always_ up for stir fry, holy fuck,” he says. _ _

_ _Conor laughs. “Stir fry it is, then.” _ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _The walk to the campus cafe is easy, easier than Cale had thought it would be, with everything that Conor now knows about what the team thinks about the two of them. _ _

_ _“So what sport does JT play?” Cale asks, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pouch. Conor huffs out a laugh._ _

_ _“They play lacrosse. It’s really cool, and they’re really good at it.” Conor smiles. “For a while, I wondered if they were going to sign a contract to play with the Colorado Mammoth, but they said their passion is teaching.”_ _

_ _“Oh, that’s so cool!”_ _

_ _“I think that they want kids with their boyfriend,” Conor smiles. “They’ve been together since… god, Harvard visited us three? Years ago, for the first time? God it’s been a while. Though I’ve never met a person who wants kids more than Jay does.”_ _

_ _Cale thinks back to the summers of babysitting as _Cousin Cale_ or _Uncle Cale_, playing imagine with kids who are four, five, six years old. He smiles. “I can imagine what that feels like.”_ _

_ _“You want kids one day?” they ask, knocking their shoulder against Cale’s._ _

_ _“One day, it’d be nice. Would hope to have a Stanley Cup under my belt too.” He smiles helplessly. He knows it’s a long shot to the NHL, and a longer shot to a Cup win, but it’s nice to dream. “Have something to tell the kids about.”_ _

_ _“Well I’m sure your kids are just going to be happy you’re their dad,” Conor says, giving Cale a smile. “That’s all that matters.”_ _

_ _“You’re right,” Cale says, unable to place all the emotions in their look. It’s so, so cold out, but he feels…_ _

_ _Warm._ _

_ _Warm down to his toes at their smile, their lips quirked up and the sparkle in their eyes. They’re just, in the middle of the walkway and Cale’s so close, he could just press forward and press their lips together._ _

_ _He likes to think he could._ _

_ _He must be standing there for a second longer than necessary because Conor just clears their throat and smiles. “We’re, uh, here.”_ _

_ _“Are we?” Cale steps back and looks over at Berkshire. “Oh, look at that.”_ _

_ _“You okay, Cale?” Conor asks. Cale hopes he can pass off the redness in his cheeks as the cold as he ducks his head._ _

_ _“Yeah, of course. Let’s go eat.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _“There’s no way you haven’t seen _Beauty and the Beast_,” Conor says, dumbfounded. “You’re a psychology student. Stockholm syndrome?” _ _

_ _Cale furrows his eyebrows. They’ve packed their textbooks away for the night and are sitting on Conor’s bed, crammed together under the sheets. _ _

_ _“I mean like, I’m not really a big movie person.” Cale shrugs. _ _

_ _“That’s an outright lie,” Conor counters, smiling. “You can sit and watch movies all night if you could! I’ve seen you on the bus.”_ _

_ _Cale’s cheeks flush. “_Endgame_ is different.”_ _

_ _“Is it, though?” Conor asks. “You can sit through one _three and a half hour_ movie, but you haven’t seen any Disney movies? No _Tangled? The Princess and the Frog? Aladdin?_ Oh my god, do you even know who Belle is?”_ _

_ _“I mean, I’ve heard of her, yeah. She’s the one the prince has to kiss to wake up, right?” Cale says, furrowing his eyebrows. _ _

_ _“Oh my god.”_ _

_ _“What? What’d I say?” Cale asks. “Isn’t that the girl?”_ _

_ _“No, that’s _Sleeping Beauty,_” Conor says. “Belle is like, a staple of Disney. Like _try the grey stuff, it’s delicious_? Dancing plates?”_ _

_ _“Excuse me.” _ _

_ _Cale must stare at Conor blankly or something because Conor laughs out loud. “Okay, _Beauty and the Beast_ it is, then.”_ _

_ _Cale has no qualms with the movie picked out. He’s pressed up close against Conor, turned on his side so he can make more room. _ _

_ _Conor chuckles. “Are you comfortable?”_ _

_ _“Very. Now play the movie.” Cale grins up at him._ _

_ _Cale doesn’t even know what he’s getting into, he thinks as he watches the brunette princess walk around her town reading, talking about wishing for more than what the life she has is giving her right now. _ _

_ _“This is very unsanitary,” Cale says when Gaston throws her book in the mud._ _

_ _“He’s not supposed to be the _good_ guy,” Conor says. _ _

_ _“Obviously. He doesn’t want her to think!”_ _

_ _“And he’s so intent on marrying her, like dude, _please_. She said no like seven times.” Conor rolls their eyes. _ _

_ _They fall into an easy pattern of commentary as the movie plays, and Cale isn’t gonna lie, he gets invested pretty easily. Belle is beautiful and the songs are catchy as hell. He does in fact, stiffen against Conor a little when the wolves start attacking the Beast. _ _

_ _“This is… intense for a Disney movie,” Cale says. “Isn’t there something that’s supposed to say that these movies are supposed to be light hearted and everything?”_ _

_ _“Dude you’re literally watching people who were working in the castle stuck there as inanimate objects working as servants for _years_,” Conor says. “Also Disney movies are like, anything but light hearted. They’re deep as hell.”_ _

_ _“Why is she not like, fighting back when he yells at her?” Cale asks._ _

_ _“I honestly couldn’t tell you, but she does later,” Conor says, grinning. _ _

_ _The movie shifts to the Beast and Belle outside, with the beginnings of something new on the horizon. It sort of sounds like a Christmas song with all the jingle bells in the background._ _

_ _Cale looks over to Conor, enraptured in the movie playing on the computer screen and mouthing along with the words with the characters as they sing, and... _ _

_ _ _I wonder why I didn’t see it there before._ _ _

_ _All soft lines and hidden smiles, like a… prince, and Cale’s falling and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it except sing. _ _

_ _He settles closer against Conor, glancing away when they turn to look at him, chuckling and wrapping an arm around him. Cale settles against him immediately._ _

_ _“Is this okay?” they ask, a little hesitant. “My arm will fall asleep if it’s pressed in between us.”_ _

_ _Cale looks up at them, smiling just a little. “Yeah, I think that’s okay.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Cale wakes up feeling well rested and…_ _

_ _Cramped, and overheated as hell. It’s still dark enough out to justify going back to sleep, but then everything sets in––_ _

_ _ _Conor, Disney, Dinner. Falling asleep together again._ _ _

_ _He sniffs, lifting his head up from where it had been pillowed on Conor’s chest. He looks up and sees Conor’s eyes shut, sleeping gently with their mouth open slightly, snoring._ _

_ _They look peaceful and warm in their hoodie under the covers and Cale just––_ _

_ _ _There may be something there that wasn’t there before._ _ _

_ _He smiles in spite of himself, laying back down to get a couple extra hours rest._ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _“Hey.” Is the first thing Cale hears as he stirs. “Your nose is really cold, could you, uh, get it off of my neck?”_ _

_ _Cale blinks his eyes open and he realizes that he had, in fact, been buried into the crook of Conor’s neck. He chokes, pulling back._ _

_ _“I’m–- I’m so sorry,” Cale says. He’s about to move further away but there’s _nowhere_ to move, he’s pressed against Conor and the wall and he can imagine about three different ways this could go horribly, horribly wrong. _ _

_ _“Dude no, you’re fine, I’m perfectly fine with, uh, cuddling.” Conor’s cheeks go pink, and Cale’s trying, he’s trying so _hard_ to find it in himself to not be charmed but it isn’t working. “Your nose is just cold as hell.”_ _

_ _“Guess that means I’m healthy, right?” Cale jokes, his voice raspy from sleep. _ _

_ _“You’re not a puppy, no matter how cute you are,” Conor says, laying back against their pillows. They pick up their phone as if they didn’t just like, ruin Cale’s life personally._ _

_ _Cale’s cheeks flush dark and he’s about to say something when Conor speaks again. “That’s just a myth, you know.”_ _

_ _“What is?”_ _

_ _“A cold, wet nose meaning a dog is healthy,” Conor says. “My dog’s nose used to always be like, warm and cracked because of the humidity.” They shrug._ _

_ _“Oh, really?” Cale says, laying back down. “I guess that would make sense.”_ _

_ _“Yours however, was just fucking cold.” Conor smirks. Cale blanches, reaching over them to grab his glasses that fell off during the night. When he puts them on and looks over, he sees Conor’s cheeks have flushed a delicate pink. _ _

_ _He smiles, burying his face back in Conor’s neck, chuckling when they shiver._ _

_ _“Uncalled for! And proves my point!”_ _

_ _“Still, you called me cute,” Cale grins, resting his chin on Conor’s chest. Conor rolls their eyes._ _

_ _“I said how cute you _think_ you are,” Conor says. “Come on, I want breakfast.”_ _

_ _“Still said I was cute,” Cale says, laughing. They roll their eyes, squeezing Cale’s sides. Cale jumps at the tickly feeling, rolling off of Conor. “You have to move! I’m not gonna climb over you.” _ _

_ _Conor sighs, feigning death. “Oh no, I suddenly can’t move, I must’ve died.”_ _

_ _“You’re still talking.” Cale can’t help but laugh._ _

_ _“It must be one of those time periods after you die where you still move and shit,” Conor says, their shoulders shaking from laughter._ _

_ _“You’re not in rigor mortis,” Cale says, pushing Conor. “Jesus, you should try out for the hockey team, you’re fucking strong.”_ _

_ _“Rigor mortis isn’t the right word.”_ _

_ _“If you don’t move I’m gonna lay here and die of starvation,” Cale whines, flopping on top of Conor. _ _

_ _“Oh my god okay, you prima donna, get off of me,” Conor says, though their voice fond. _ _

_ _Cale chuckles as Conor moves off of the bed, bending down so they can get to their drawers. They come up with two pairs of sweats and a sweatshirt. _ _

_ _“Do you have four legs?” Cale asks, raising an eyebrow, before he realizes. _ _

_ _“These are for you,” Conor says. “Unless you’d like to walk around in yesterday’s clothes smelling of stir fry.”_ _

_ _Technically, Cale thinks vaguely, he smells of Conor’s cologne and sleep. “I–– thanks man, that’s really kind of you.” _ _

_ _He takes Conor’s clothes, ducking his head when they smile. “Look, they’re going to be a little big on you since you’re like, five feet tall.”_ _

_ _“Okay, fuck off,” Cale laughs. “I’m only four inches shorter than you are.”_ _

_ _“You’re still short. Like when someone’s born in 2000’s. They’re perpetually like, 12, even though they’re almost twenty now.” Conor shrugs. _ _

_ _“I resent that,” Cale says, taking off his hoodie and shirt. He’s caught in the fabric of the shirt when he hears Conor make a noise. “What, like what you see?”_ _

_ _“Yeah, I can’t see your face,” Conor deadpans. _ _

_ _Cale pulls off his shirt fully, throwing a look over to Conor. They grin._ _

_ _“Get dressed before all the french toast is gone.” Conor says, pulling off their clothes. Cale looks away, but he can literally hear Conor think, judge whether or not they want to speak._ _

_ _“You can look at them, you know,” they say softly. Cale looks up, and Conor shrugs, looking down at their chest, at their scars. “It’s a part of me.”_ _

_ _“Are you––” Cale shakes his head. He wants to know so _much_. “Did it hurt?”_ _

_ _“Well, yeah,” Conor says, sitting back down. Thin lines, still a little angry as if they’re only half a year or so old. “I had these drains that kept me from sleeping for like two weeks. It was gross.”_ _

_ _“Can I ask a question? I don’t know… how to say it.” Cale furrows his eyebrows, turning to face Conor more. “Why’d you do it?”_ _

_ _“Get the surgery?” Conor asks. “It’s like, imagine if you had an extra body part, right? But it felt gross, like it was like, decaying and it played no part in how you went about your life, but it got in the way all the time? And as the way you viewed yourself as you grew older changed, you just wished you didn’t have it at all. I don’t really know how to explain it other than I couldn’t live with them,” Conor says, shrugging. “And I’ll look at photos of me when I had a chest, I just look and feel so much _happier_ now.”_ _

_ _Cale nods. “I’m sorry.”_ _

_ _“It’s not something you need to apologize for. I like how I am right now,” Conor shrugs. “And the things that I don’t have, I can substitute for.”_ _

_ _It’s weird to think about it that way, Cale thinks. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in the wrong body, much less stuck in between with a lack of gender._ _

_ _“What do you wanna look like?” Cale asks after a moment of companionable silence. _ _

_ _“I mean, a shapeshifter would be cool,” Conor says. “Because that would mean that when I wanna look more feminine I could, and I wanted to look more masculine, I could change. But generally? I like looking more masculine. Until I’m at pride–– then I’m decked out in like, rainbows and shit like that.” Conor chuckles. “Though it’s been a while since I’ve been to a pride parade.”_ _

_ _“Why?” Cale asks. “Aren’t they supposed to be like, a safe space?” _ _

_ _“Yeah, but I got top surgery last summer,” Conor says. “It’s okay. There’s one every year, around June.”_ _

_ _“We should go next year, then,” Cale says. “We’ll be doing something for the school, right? We can take a day off. You should experience pride if you want.”_ _

_ _Conor smiles, something soft and emotional, and Cale can barely name everything there. “You’d do that with me?” _ _

_ _“Yeah,” Cale smiles. “Course I would.”_ _

_ _He doesn’t even know where it’s coming from, the wanting to experience found family like that, but with Conor it’s different, he guesses. _ _

_ _They duck their head, their cheeks flushing. Everything feels big and important and _too much._ “You uh, wanna know something weird?”_ _

_ _Cale furrows his eyebrows. “What?”_ _

_ _“I can’t feel parts of my chest still, and it’s been like, eight months since my surgery.” Conor chuckles. _ _

_ _“What.”_ _

_ _“No, I’m serious,” Conor says. “Touch my nipple. Like bro homo. Touch my nipple.”_ _

_ _“You did not just say bro homo.”_ _

_ _“I totally did, now touch it.”_ _

_ _Cale laughs, reaching forward and touching Conor’s nipple. Conor shrugs. “It’s reacting to the heat of your finger and everything, but they did what’s called a _free nipple graft_ so all the nerves are gone. I can’t feel a thing.”_ _

_ _“That’s sick, honestly,” Cale smiles, pulling his hand back. “I’m glad you’re happy, Conor.”_ _

_ _Conor grins. “Thank you. Now seriously, breakfast. I’m starving.” _ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _It dawns on Cale halfway through picking up a cereal bowl that he never went back home last night. “Oh my god.”_ _

_ _“What? Who did what?” Conor asks, distracted, trying to decide between Cap’n Crunch or Froot Loops. “I’m making a very important decision here.”_ _

_ _“Pick the Froot Loops, they’re gay.”_ _

_ _“Your mind,” Conor says, nodding._ _

_ _“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.” Cale grins. “And I’m going to need to pay those big bucks to Hildy. I never went back to the dorms last night.”_ _

_ _“Do you have a curf–– oooooooh my god, it’s game day,” Conor says. “I’m _so_ sorry.”_ _

_ _“It’s my fault dude. We fell asleep without setting an alarm.”_ _

_ _“Still, let me pitch in,” Conor says, and wow, that’s… _ _

_ _“That’s really sweet, Con,” Cale says, smiling._ _

_ _As the two of them sit down at a table, they barely get a moments of peace before, “Oh, _Caley_!” _ _

_ _Yup. _ _

_ _“Call me Caley again, Bozzo, see what happens.” Cale turns around to see Marco looking like the cat that caught the cream._ _

_ _“Where were you last night?” Bozzy asks, turning a chair around at the table and sitting down. “Hey Conor! Did you know that our boy Cale is having a _Romeo and Julio_ moment?”_ _

_ _“A what?” Conor asks, furrowing their eyebrows. _ _

_ _“A _Romeo and Julio_, you know, _but softe, what light through yonder window breaks_, but gay?” Bozzy raises an eyebrow. _ _

_ _Cale stares open mouthed at his best friend. “You know Shakespeare?”_ _

_ _“Don’t change the subject.”_ _

_ _“No, I wanna know what a fucking _Romeo and Julio_ moment is.” Cale’s trying desperately not to erupt into hysterical laughter, but it’s hard not to around his best friend. _ _

_ _“You know! He’s been sneaking away, bringing someone back to the dorm. His name is Timmy,” Bozzy says matter of factly._ _

_ _“Oh, Timmy, is it?” Conor asks, smiling. “Tell me all about him, Marco.”_ _

_ _“Okay, well, the team’s currently fining Cale a lot because he never came back from wherever he was going after studying with you,” Bozzy says, shrugging. “Did he say?”_ _

_ _Cale looks over at Conor who looks like they’ve seen a Calculus problem. “I–– no. We hung out all night and studied.”_ _

_ _Bozzy squints at them. “So you don’t know a Timmy at all?”_ _

_ _Cale snorts into his bowl of cereal, trying to cover it up as a cough. _ _

_ _“No, not anyone in particular,” Conor says, smiling. _ _

_ _“Well, if you see anyone that looks like Cale’s type, you should let me know.” Bozzy grins. “I’ve gotta meet this guy!”_ _

_ _“Marco, I swear to god––”_ _

_ _“What!!” Bozzy asks. “What’d I say?”_ _

_ _“You’re impossible, go tell Hildy I was with Conor all night. Vouch for me,” Cale says._ _

_ _“Is that why you’re in clothes that are way too long for you? Dude, he’s like a giant compared to you.”_ _

_ _“Okay, go the fuck away.”_ _

_ _“You love me!” Bozzy says, standing up and walking away._ _

_ _“I know!” Cale calls after him, very pointedly Not Looking at Conor. _ _

_ _“So _Timmy_, huh?” Conor asks, smirking. “They seem like a great guy.”_ _

_ _“Oh shut up.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Cale’s got noise cancelling headphones on, stretching against the wall outside of the locker room, trying to get in the Zone. They’re playing Vermont today, and even though their record against the team has been great, he’d like to keep winning. _ _

_ _He just can’t get himself focused. _ _

_ _He takes his headphones off and sighs, digging the heels of his palms into his hands until he sees salt and pepper._ _

_ _ _Just breathe, Makar. It’s not a big deal. Your new friends are just out there supporting you. No big deal, you don’t have to impress anyone. _ _ _

_ _“Hey.” Cale hears, and when he looks up, Conor’s standing there in their gameday suit. “Is everything okay?”_ _

_ _“Yeah, I’m just nervous. For some reason.”_ _

_ _Conor bends down next to Cale so they’re face to face. “You’ve got this dude. If you’re worried about the other gays being here, they’re not going to care whether or not you win. If you score a goal, an assist, anything, you know they’ll be the loudest ones there.”_ _

_ _Cale laughs to himself. “I just don’t wanna make a fool of myself, I guess.”_ _

_ _“There was a time where we saw Sammy in a little production where they were performing something for their acting class, and they literally switched into Quebecois halfway through. Sometimes things just happen. It’s okay.” Conor smiles. “If it _just happens_ today, you’ll still be great in our eyes. They also saw you eat potstickers, so they’re in it for the long haul.”_ _

_ _“Oh my god, you’re worse than Bozzy.” Cale snorts, the tension from his shoulders seeping out. Conor laughs. _ _

_ _“You feeling better?” they ask. Cale nods, smiling up at them. “Good. Get me and Timmy a goal, have something to brag about to your boys.”_ _

_ _Cale’s cheeks flush when Conor does an obnoxious eyebrow waggle. “You’re impossible, go. I need to warm up.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _It takes all of eleven minutes to score top shelf on the Vermont goalie, and when he looks over, his new friends are on their feet, cheering as Bozzy and Del Gaizo crash into him. _ _

_ _“Fucking disgusting goal, Cale!” Bozzy grins. _ _

_ _Cale smiles, looking over to where he knows Conor is standing taking photos of the game. “Thanks, dude.”_ _

_ _After the first period is over, Cale walks up to Conor. “I don’t know what magic you pulled but I need more.”_ _

_ _“Mindset, dude. I actually listen when you talk about your psychology books,” Conor teases. “Stay in the present.”_ _

_ _Cale flushes, smiling. “Well, keep talking to me, because you’re obviously magical, and I need you in my life permanently.”_ _

_ _“You flatter me, Makar,” they say, fake swooning. Cale flushes, afraid they’d been a little too honest with their feelings, but then Conor winks at him, and he knows they’re cool. _ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Two more assists and another goal for Cale later, the team circles the ice with their sticks in the air, celebrating their 5-1 victory over Vermont. _ _

_ _Cale’s called out as a star of the game, which is incredibly sweet. As everyone hollers his name, he skates over to the PR person._ _

_ _“How does it feel to come back so soon from break with yet another win and yet another first star on your belt, Cale?” Josie, the Minutemen announcer asks._ _

_ _“Well uh,” Cale says, glancing over to where Conor’s taking photos. “It’s all about mindset. Staying in the moment and making sure you make every minute count. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without my teammates, so it makes this win that much more special.”_ _

_ _“That was Cale Makar, your Minutemen first star of the game!” Josie says excitedly into the microphone._ _

_ _As the team skates off the ice, getting ready to shower, change, and get back on the ice to visit with the Minutemen families who’re skating on the rink after the game, Cale hopes to skip by Hildy while walking to the stall. No such luck though–– he almost falls backwards completely when someone grabs his jersey._ _

_ _“Extra hundred for missing curfew completely,” Hildy says with a knowing smile. “But, I’ll take half off today because you’re a first star.”_ _

_ _“Thank you, Captain,” Cale says. _ _

_ _He nods, undressing and getting ready for media. _ _

_ _Media’s media, to be honest. Nothing special. He answers the same questions over and over again–– _I truly couldn’t have done it without my team,_ and _to be nominated for the Hobey Baker is a real achievement but I’m not really worried about that. I just wanna get us to win the Frozen Four_, and _we played a full sixty today, and that’s what led us to winning,_ ––before sliding into the shower to wash himself quickly. _ _

_ _“Cale’s gonna get lucky tonight,” Farmer wolf whistles. “Two goals and two assists? Someone was performing.”_ _

_ _“I was doing my job, oh my god,” Cale says, his cheeks flushing, not letting his mind think back to when Conor had asked Cale to get them a goal. _ _

_ _“Are we gonna meet them tonight?” Ferrsy asks. “You’ve been dating them for over a year, I think we should meet them.”_ _

_ _Cale chokes. “No, _no._ I said we’ve _known_ each other for a year and a half. We’ve only just started dating.” _ _

_ _“Still!” _ _

_ _“You’ll meet them one day, they’re just busy,” Cale says, shrugging as he puts his head back under the spray to wash off the shampoo. _ _

_ _“Guys, digging into other people’s business is a fine, remember that,” Hildy says with an air of finality, and Cale could honestly kiss him. _ _

_ _He finishes his shower quickly and slips out while his team is arguing over whether or not they should actually get fined. He gets dressed quickly, running a towel through his hair to calm it as much as he can. _ _

_ _He walks back out in his skates and jumps when he sees Conor leaning against the wall outside the locker room. “You really went all out, huh?”_ _

_ _Cale flushes dark. “You told me to get you and Timmy a goal, so I did.”_ _

_ _“And your assists?” Conor raises an eyebrow._ _

_ _“You both deserve nice things.” Cale shrugs, feeling his face burn darker. Conor smiles, shaking their head. “Hey look, I’m almost as tall as you in my skates. What do you think about that?”_ _

_ _“I don’t even know what to think, Cale Makar.” Conor smiles, stepping forward and…_ _

_ _The next thing Cale registers is Conor’s lips pressed against the corner of his mouth, in a soft, hesitant way. As if there would be any world in which Cale didn’t kiss back. Conor looks like they’re about to apologize, eyebrows furrowed in worry. Cale doesn’t think that Conor should ever feel like that, much less anxious about something he’s wanted to do for a while._ _

_ _He reaches up, cupping Conor’s cheek. He runs the pad of his thumb over Conor’s cheekbone, feeling the soft skin heat up just a little._ _

_ _Conor’s still against his lips for a second before kissing back, wrapping their hands around Cale’s waist to pull them a little closer. _ _

_ _They stay that way for just a second, trading a few lazy kisses before Cale pulls back and smiles. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”_ _

_ _“If it’s as long as I have? I definitely get it,” Conor says, resting their forehead against his. Cale chuckles. _ _

_ _“We have to get going. And talk about this,” Cale points in between the two of them. “Later.”_ _

_ _“Later,” Conor says, squeezing Cale’s hips. “But first, you’ve gotta go see your adoring fans.”_ _

_ _“My groupies.” Cale chuckles._ _

_ _Conor has to go out first to take photos of everyone coming in, and Cale must be so content watching them walk away, he barely registers someone clearing their throat._ _

_ _“That was Conor,” Cale hears. He turns around to see his best friend, looking confused, and hurt._ _

_ _Oh no._ _

_ _“Okay, Marco, I can explain.”_ _

_ _“Are you cheating on Timmy?” Bozzy asks. “Because Timmy seems like a great person and you seem really happy together, why would you––”_ _

_ _“_Conor’s Timmy_!” Cale hisses. “I was going to wait to tell you guys until after we’d figured our shit out, but yeah. Conor took me to a… uh… group therapy session, and we found that we had a lot in common, and it just happened.”_ _

_ _Bozzy’s eyebrows furrow. “But… why couldn’t you have just said that?”_ _

_ _“Because Conor’s team, and I don’t know. I didn’t know if you guys would treat me or them any different.”_ _

_ _“You and Conor are still team, dating or not,” Bozzy says, bringing Cale into a hug. “Team looks out for each other. I’m sorry we couldn’t help you.”_ _

_ _Cale hugs his best friend back tightly, feeling every bit of anxiety he felt over months and months of being sort of closeted, days of hanging out with Conor and lying about group therapy, just melt away. “Thanks man. I promise, no more secrets.”_ _

_ _“Good.” Bozzy grins. “Now. Tell me more about Conor.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _“Cale!!” JT skates over and practically slams Cale into the boards in a hug. “You were _awesome_!”_ _

_ _“Sick game, dude,” someone with shoulder length brown hair says. Cale’s certain he’s never seen this man before, but he looks so familiar, he can’t put his finger on it. “I’m Jay’s boyfriend, and Captain of the Harvard men’s hockey team.”_ _

_ _“Oh my god. Kerfoot?” Cale asks, smiling. Kerfoot holds out his hand. (Cale, poor Cale, thinks Kerfoot’s going in for a handshake. But actually, Kerfoot pulls him into a hug.)_ _

_ _“Call me Alexander outside of the game.” He smiles at Cale. _ _

_ _He’s congratulated by Tyson Sr. and Jr., Sammy, Nate, and Colin, and Tyson Jr.’s partner Dante. _ _

_ _“Is every gay a sports gay?” Cale asks, turning to Conor. _ _

_ _“There’s gotta be at least a few,” Conor says, smiling._ _

_ _“Score those goals for anyone in particular, Cale?” Tyson Sr. asks, laughing when Nate elbows him._ _

_ _“You all are just as bad as the guys,” Cale says, his cheeks flushing, as he looks over to Conor. However, he can’t really hide how fond he is. _ _

_ _“Oh my god, you totally did it!” Tyson Jr says. “When did it happen?”_ _

_ _“Just now?” Conor asks, scratching the back of their neck. “We still have to go through some stuff.”_ _

_ _“The team’s convinced I’m dating a Timmy because someone called Conor _Timbits_ in the beginning of the meeting and it stuck in my head.” Cale looks at Nate who truly just shrugs unremorseful. “So we have to figure out how to bring it up to the team and make it look like… I wasn’t cheating on Conor with… Conor.”_ _

_ _“This happens a lot, I assume?” Alexander asks with an amused smile._ _

_ _“No, actually. Hildy figured it out, but everyone else is convinced I’m dating someone named Timmy.” Cale shrugs. He knocks his shoulder against Conor’s. “But hey, thank you guys. I really needed this.”_ _

_ _“Well, we’re happy to be here,” Colin says, their smile wide. _ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _Cale and Conor excuse themselves from the group of friends after the skate is over to go to see the team congregated in the locker room. “Hey. I need to talk to you guys, I have something to tell you.” _ _

_ _“Is everything okay?” Muzz asks._ _

_ _“What’s going on?” _ _

_ _Cale looks over to Conor, who nods. “This… is Timmy.”_ _

_ _“That’s Conor,” Del Gaizo says, brows furrowed._ _

_ _“Cale, are you feeling okay?” Farmer asks._ _

_ _Cale looks over to Bozzy, who gives him a small thumbs up. _ _

_ _“I’ve started going to a group, to work on coming out one day,” Cale says, taking a breath. “Conor brought me there, and we’ve been hanging out. I didn’t want to admit that I was going to therapy, so I didn’t. And Conor just… happened.”_ _

_ _Conor grins at him, taking Cale’s hand and squeezing it. “So this is Conor, otherwise known as Timmy.”_ _

_ _Hildy walks up to the two of them, an eyebrow raised. “You’re team, Con,” Hildy says, smiling. “Welcome.”_ _

_ _Cale grins, feeling himself finally relax. _ _

_ _Everything’s going to be okay._ _

_ _\----_ _

_ _ **EPILOGUE** _ _

_ _“You sure you can make it?” Conor asks through the receiver. “You were in San Jose not two days ago.”_ _

_ _Cale laughs, walking up the steps to the gender-inclusive housing dorms._ _

_ _After losing the Frozen Four, Cale won the _Hobey Baker_. Then, he’d been whisked away to Colorado, having been called up to the NHL to play in the Avalanche’s postseason for the past month, doing press and photos in the meantime. He’d barely been able to see Conor during the time he was in Colorado, with Conor still in school and Cale working, and in a relatively new relationship like his and Conor’s is, he’s not going to miss something big like the Ball for anything. _ _

_ _“Like I’d miss the Stonewall Dance,” Cale says, opening the door to the dorms. He smiles, winking as he sees Tyson Sr. waiting for Nate in the lounge. _ _

_ _This year, they’d end up losing out to Smith anyway, but that was okay. They’d all pooled together some money with the Minutemen and rented a limo to drive them that night. Cale’s so happy that his two groups of families have come together to support each other._ _

_ _“Well, if you’re sure,” Conor says. Cale smiles, knocking on Conor’s dorm room door. “Hold on Cale. _In a minute, please!_”_ _

_ _It takes a moment for Conor to come to the door but when he opens it, Cale’s there, smiling with a bouquet of roses. “You’re incredible.”_ _

_ _“Hello to you too,” Cale says, leaning up to press his lips to Conor’s gently. “C’mon, the limo and the guys are almost here.”_ _

_ _\---_ _

_ _The Dance is gorgeous. It’s black tie, with food and music, the works. The rainbow balloon arch is gorgeous, and Cale laughs when Bozzy insists Cale and Conor take a photo under it._ _

_ _“But it’s _gay,_” Bozzy insists._ _

_ _“He’s not gonna stop,” Cale says, smiling. _ _

_ _“Might as well.” Conor laughs._ _

_ _The music is incredible, a live band to serenade the partygoers throughout the night. It’s almost like something out of a dream._ _

_ _“Come on, come dance with me,” Cale pulls Conor to the dance floor as a slow song begins. Conor smiles, resting their hands on Cale’s hips as they sway to the beat. “Do you wanna know something?”_ _

_ _“Always from you,” Conor says, smiling gently._ _

_ _“I wanted to kiss you while we were watching _Beauty and the Beast_,” Cale confesses. “You were just… I realized then that I wanted everything then, what my feelings were.”_ _

_ _“I wanted to kiss you outside Berkshire. When we were talking and just stood out in the cold,” Conor says, ducking their head. “But I’m glad I waited until I did.”_ _

_ _Cale hums. “You should kiss me now.”_ _

_ _“Oh I can, can I?” Conor asks. _ _

_ _“You definitely can,” Cale says, smiling. _ _

_ _“Then I will.”_ _


End file.
